Time of the Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page A

switches. Her cheeks were hollow and her hair hung lank and gray, but she struck with such a fierce strength that the monk fell to the mud floor.
    Hereward lurched forward and stopped the next swing of the broom with one hand. “Hold.”
    Eyes blazing, the woman looked the blood-smeared warrior up and down.
    â€œWe will pay you well for shelter,” he said, jangling the pouch. “Till sunrise, and then we will be away.”
    â€œNot him.” She pointed a quavering finger at Alric. “His kind have tormented us for generation upon generation. First they come with smiles, then they come with scowls, finally they come with sticks and spears.”
    â€œIf he troubles you, I will clout him myself.” Hereward rested against the door for support. He regretted becoming involved in this business. It was a distraction, and now here he was, weakened and wounded, with miles still to go to Eoferwic. He knew he would never reach the town on his own.
    â€œWho are you, coming here like a butcher?” the woman said.
    â€œMy name is Hereward, and I thank you for your help. The monk goes by the name Alric. Let us sleep on your floor till dawn and we will be gone.”
    â€œHow do I know you won’t kill me and steal all I own?”
    Hereward looked round at the almost bare room, at the bed of straw next to the fire, and the few meager cooking pots. Bunches of dried herbs were stacked along one wall. He smelled the sweet aroma of lavender and sorrel. His gaze shifted to dangling skulls large and small—badger, rabbit, mouse, sheep—suspended on fiber strips.
    â€œBecause you are a witch and you will curse us!” Alric shouted, scrambling to his feet.
    â€œYes!” The woman pointed her bony finger at him again; he backed away a step.
    Sighing, Hereward grabbed Alric and manhandled him against the grubby wall. “We are seeking shelter for the night,” he hissed. “Do not ruin it with your stupid ways. Or would you rather I killed her and be done with it?”
    Alric looked from Hereward to the woman, his brow furrowing with concern. “Very well,” he whispered.
    From his pouch, Hereward plucked a silver penny which he tossed to the woman. “Payment for one night. Fair?”
    The woman took it eagerly and nodded. “There is bread,” she said. “And water. I have herbs which will help your wounds heal.” She indicated a corner of the room away from the hearth. “Make your bed there, but know I sleep with one eye open.”
    The two men gathered some filthy straw from a pile and scattered it against the wall. The bitter cold still reached through the hard-packed floor and the thin wattle wall, but the fire offered some comfort, and at least they were out of the biting wind. After Hereward had rinsed his wounds with water, the woman ground up some herbs in a crucible and mixed them with a handful of pig fat for him to apply to the gashes. It stung at first, but soon all his injuries felt pleasingly numb.
    During the application of the balm, Alric sat in a daze, hands hugged around his knees. Once the woman had lain down and was snoring loudly, he asked, “Where do we go from here?”
    â€œI know where I go,” Hereward replied. “To Eoferwic.”
    â€œI could return to the monastery and seek sanctuary, but.…” The monk’s words tailed off.
    â€œYou will have to confess your sins.”
    Alric glared at the warrior until he saw that Hereward was not making a point, and then his shoulders sagged. “I cannot go back. I cannot stay here. Harald Redteeth will not cease in his endeavors until he finds me.”
    Clutching his bloodstained knife tightly against him, Hereward laid down his head. Exhaustion filled him, and it would be several days’ hard journeying through the snow to Eoferwic. “Sleep,” he said. “We are safe for now. And the world will not seem so bad at first light.”

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